


The Hunter and The Hunted

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the run Jensen is captured by a sinister predator who doesn't just want to eat him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunter and The Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> Written after bewaretheides15 sent me the start of a WIP.

Rough, wet brick lit the sting of scraped flesh in Jensen's cheek. All instinct, he planted his hand to the wall and tried to shove away, only to be rammed right back up against it by the mass of solid heat at his back. Hands like steel fire closed over the backs of his own, making them look dainty and stubby against the long, slim fingers tipped in shining, curved black. The grate of talons digging deep valleys into brick set Jensen's teeth on edge, the red dust turning cakey with the sweat on his palms.  
He knew he was muttering something, probably some chorus of “don't,” or, “please,” but he was lost to the thread of it, adrenaline too flush in his veins to care whether he's begging or hyperventilating, what the wetness on his face is. The Apex probably didn’t care either - food's feelings don't count for much.

Whatever he's saying went to seed on a yelp that drags out toward scream territory when he felt its nose press against his neck, dragging up toward his ear. Its breath was an inferno against his cheek, still cool compared to the wet swipe of its tongue. It made this _sound_ , clicky vibration with a bass thrum hidden underneath it. The sharp chuffs of air stirred the hair plastered to his skull with sweat and rain.

Jensen couldn’t make out more than the vague shape of it, a matte swatch of night against the moon-glinting rubble of the Old City. It was big, several inches taller than Jensen, thick tendrils of something dripping down into its face. Could be hair, could be fur, maybe even some weird kind of tentacle thing that - oh fuck - Jensen really wishes he hadn't just considered. Some of the stories say that Apexes are more animal that human. Some of them say they're not human at all. The pastor at the church down the street from where Jensen grew up said that they were conjured from the bowels of hell, that only creatures as evil as that would be strong enough to hold all of the other dark things in the night at bay. Intellectually he knows that is wrong – these creatures were probably some science experiment gone wrong back in the Fallen Days – but there’s still something primal about the fear in his gut. The Apex had been gen-modded in a time forgotten to be faster, stronger and more powerful than regular humans. Someone, somewhere, had thought that binding animal traits with human intelligence would make a master race. Most of them were nothing more than instinct driven beasts with the worst human traits of cunning and cruelty, desperate to feed or fuck.

On the other hand, from the heat radiating off of the thing at his back, hell seems like a genuine possibility. One of those hands trailed down over his forearm, claws flexing out from somewhere deeper in the finger to little ebony hooks that caught and tore at the neon orange cuff of the uniform they'd stuffed him into. Might as well have strapped a spotlight to his chest. His wrists were still sore from the handcuff and he wonders if the Apex can smell the blood blooming there under the surface, if that's why it plucks and pulls until the delicate stretch of flesh and bone is exposed. 

It made a deep, shattered growl that Jensen hysterically hopes doesn't mean it's hungry. The rumble pressed to the back of his neck slunk all the way down his spine like a plucked string and trembled out along his limbs. Oh he so, so badly would like not to piss his pants. If this was the state's cop out execution, he'd at least like to take it with that one scrap of dignity. 

There’d be no point in fighting, Jensen knows that - it took the thing all of three blocks to catch him, but he still can't stop himself when the Apex's hand slaps to his throat, fine points of pain where the very tips of its talons dig into his flesh. Blind panic sent him bucking and writhing, trying power through the vice grip holding his body in place. 

Air came in fits and sharp jags, not enough to keep him struggling the way he screamed at his body to. It was dark enough out that he couldn’t even be sure when the blackness starts swimming across his vision, only that he was beginning to slump and lose touch with himself when he heard, "Good boy." The wet heat of its mouth was at the peak of his ear when Jensen was hit by the sudden stab of pain as a fang sliced into cartilage.

Fear – nothing more complex – was all Jensen could relate to as the pain of the bite resounded through his body. Ridiculous as it sounded, that one small bite felt worse than breaking a rib or the punch to his jaw he took from an ex-con wrestler he was tracking down. The Apex pressed hard against his back, firm chest, solid thighs. It – he – had him trapped and there was nothing he could do about it. A warm wet tongue, slightly rougher than a human’s, drew the blood from the bite into the creature’s mouth and a humming sound reached Jensen’s mutilated ear. 

This one, this one, seemed different. He could talk.

The low rumble of its – his – voice met Jensen’s ear again. “You taste good.” Another stripe was licked up the side of his neck, his ear, into his hair. The Apex was scenting him, tasting him. Jensen shook with the realisation that it was toying with him as much from the air deprivation.

“Just kill me,” he ground out through the grip on his throat, desperate for this to be over.

The beast chuckled. “Not likely. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find you, Jensen Ackles.” Most of the words were true but there was the ache of a foreign hiss in the back of the sibilants, something off with the rhythm that made the hairs on the back of Jensen’s neck stand up. The creature pulled back enough to let Jensen stand. He had barely found his feet when blackness overtook his vision. The creature had stuck him with something chemical. Something to knock him out. The worry about atypical Apex behaviour drew Jensen into unconsciousness.

 

He’d half expected to wake up in a cell. He’d seen quite a few cells in his time, from local lock ups to the max security after the incident with the den Weenens. No. He was in a pretty ordinary apartment, plain walls, dresser, blue sheets on the bed. He could taste the chems at the back of his throat and was relieved to see a sealed bottle of water on the night stand. Jensen halted his reach towards it. It looked like it hadn’t been tampered with. On the other hand…

“It’s safe.” The Apex was seated on a low chair beside the bed. It – no, Jensen couldn’t properly call it that. Everything about the creature was male, from his strong limbs, his wide flat chest to the warm golden colour of his skin and the bright, intelligent hazel eyes. He had been reading a book, an honest-to-Gaia, old-fashioned paper book, and placed it carefully on the arm of the chair before standing tall and coming towards Jensen. “You might not trust me, but I haven’t poisoned it. I’ve got better ways to kill you.”

That was true. Jensen’s eyes fixed on the razor sharp claws that the Apex had in place of fingernails. He’d caught a glimpse of black, sharp teeth in his mouth when the creature tried a reassuring smile. Jensen was less than reassured. None the less, he took a healthy swig of water, enjoying the taste. He hadn’t had proper water in a while, relying on boiling the dregs from rain gutters and makeshift rain collection. It didn’t have the sharp, bitter aftertaste of that type of water. Jensen found himself wondering if the Apex had beer.

“You know my name. You got one?” Jensen could remember the precise tones of the creature saying his name.

“Jared.” The creature seemed pleased he’d drunk and settled back into his chair. 

“Just Jared?” Jensen settled himself more comfortably. He was still dressed, at least, although he didn’t want to really think about what the dirt on his clothes was doing to the sheets.

The creature took a breath, nostrils flaring. Scenting. Jensen remembered that. He’d been involved in an Apex case back on the force.

“For now.” The creature grinned, teeth flashing in the low light. Definitely deadly sharp. Definitely not a man. “You should shower. And I should find you clothes. Proper clothes. The orange does nothing for your colouring.” The creature – Jared – made no move to show Jensen where to go. Instead he watched him carefully. “You would be more comfortable if I told you what I want from you.”

Jensen caught himself before he nodded. Jared didn’t need to know that he’d read him properly. Instead Jared’s nostrils flared and he nodded. It seemed that whatever scent he was receiving told him more than Jensen really wanted to let on. “We’ll get there. I promise. Just- It would also be easier for me if you’d shower.” Jensen nodded slowly, in acquiescence.

It was odd to watch the Apex act so domestically, opening drawers and pointing towards a half open door. Jensen pushed himself upright slowly, worried about the sluggishness he could still feel in his thoughts and in his movements. Jared finally placed the clothes on the dresser just outside the bathroom before leading the way in.

The shower was heaven. Jensen had to wonder again whether Jared was rich or whether he just worked for the right branch of the government. Either way, the water was hot, clean and there was plenty of soap. Jensen felt like he was sloughing off years of dirt in the pounding spray. He scrubbed three times, indeed, letting his fingertips prune. He was reluctant to switch off the water but his curiosity took hold and he needed to find out what Jared was all about.

Jared was in the room when Jensen came out, towel tight around his waist. The Apex moved, undulated, towards him, smooth, fast and predatory. Jensen backed up and realised his mistake when he was pressed into the wall. Déjà vu. But this time, he was facing his attacker and could see the rise and fall of Jared’s chest, the flat black of his eyes and feel the warmth of his body pressing against him. Jensen’s fight or flee impulse seemed to be transmogrifying into fight or fuck and the low pulse centred on his cock suggest fucking was the preferred option.

Jensen knew his own breathing had quickened as he looked Jared straight in those alien eyes. There was a swirl of softening brown around the edges but it was the swollen, drunken, hungry black that sucked him in. Jared pressed closer and Jensen tipped his head back against the wall to let Jared close. At first it was the unexpectedly soft brush of his hair, the feel of his breath moving over Jared’s skin. Then lips, tongue and teeth came into play, moving carefully over the sensitive places on Jensen’s throat. He shuddered, half in arousal and half with the knowledge that Jared could bite down and rip out his throat at any moment. The fear looped into his slowly stiffening cock and it jerked against the towel.

Without warning, Jared’s body pressed all along Jensen’s and his mouth was hungry at Jensen’s lips. It went against Jensen’s usual need to be in control, in charge, but the sheer weight of Jared’s body prevented him from doing anything other than opening up for that clever, rough tongue. Jared was mindful enough to keep his teeth covered and the kiss turned into something more. It was a long time since Jensen had been kissed with such care, such certitude. He found himself pressing up as much as he could against the Apex’s body. When his rock hard cock came into contract with Jared’s equally interested dick, the cold clear clarity of what he was doing ratcheted through his mind.

Some people got off on this. Hunting down the gen-mod races, those who were less than normal. They said they liked to fuck non-humans. Said it was animalistic and out of control. Jensen had never been too sure that they were right and he knew he couldn’t describe Jared as non-human. Super-human, perhaps. In the prisons, he’d been through his fair share of short nasty fights to show that he was the one in charge of choosing his partners. Willingness and something of a connection was all that he’d asked for. He wouldn’t have described himself as being fucked up enough to want to fuck a creature.

But Jared wasn’t a creature, not any more. He was hot and hard and Jensen felt a hunger that needed satisfied. Whatever Jared wanted from him, it wasn’t just sex. And that added another punch of lust. And again, Jensen hadn’t been with anyone who could hold him down and make him take it since he’d been a teen – he’d worked hard to make it that way. Jared licked another stripe up his neck, paused, then took hold of Jensen and threw him onto the bed. Jensen gave up worrying; lust and fear warred within him, pushing all rational thoughts out of his mind.

Jared stripped quickly, revealing strong muscles, tanned skin and an elaborate set of markings that could have been tattoos or natural. They were the same solid black as his eyes and twisted up from his hip across his taut, rippled belly. Jensen drank in the sight before fumbling at the loosened towel and tossing it off the bed. Jensen had to grab at his cock then, hold it firm as Jared moved – too fast, too strong – until he was on all fours over Jensen. 

Taking a steeling breath, Jensen reached up to push the hair hanging down off Jared’s face. He traced along a sharp cheekbone, down the slightly stubbled jaw, traced the line of his throat. Jared watched him, like a lion watches a lamb perhaps, as Jensen circled the flat disc of his nipple and followed the smooth skin down over the creature’s torso. Muscles tightened and flexed as Jensen went down, his palm feeling minute gradations in the skin, the remains of old scars perhaps. No tentacles, at least. Near enough a man. Jared shifted lower when Jensen’s hand came closer to his heavy cock. It felt strong in his hand, that red hot way the rest of Jared’s body felt. It was broad, thick and long and it made Jensen ache. 

“Can I…?” It was embarrassing to get the word out but Jensen felt he’d be begging for more before the night was out. “Can I suck it?”

Jensen was expecting Jared to flip over, to let Jensen work his way down the skin that his mouth watered for. But instead he flowed forward kneeling over Jensen’s mouth and painting Jensen’s lips with the pre-come that had gathered in white pearls on the head of his blood flushed cock. Jensen opened wide, sticking his tongue out and waited for Jared to force his cock into his mouth. Luckily Jared didn’t tease, letting his hips punch forward. Jensen hollowed his cheeks and focused on the musky taste, the smooth texture, the pleasant ache in his jaw. He let Jared fuck his face, placing his open palms on Jared’s thighs to feel the muscles shift and know, just know, that Jared could just let go and make him take the whole length. Jensen’s hips punched into the air at the thought, seeking some kind of relief.

Jared took that as some kind of sign, holding his cock deep before pulling all the way back. Jensen panted in the wake of this, shaking now with anticipation. Slick landed on his chest. “Open yourself up,” Jared ordered, voice lower than before, more full of growls and yelps. He held up a claw-tipped hand in explanation.

Jensen obeyed, splaying his legs wide so Jared could kneel between them and watch Jensen drive one finger, then another, into his willing body. Jensen had no patience here, no willingness to wait, to draw it out and tease. He used too much slick in his eagerness, feeling more was probably better with all that Jared had to offer. The squelching should have been disgusting but Jensen felt brave enough to try a third finger, twisting his wrist awkwardly before grabbing for Jared’s cock and slicking it up with the remaining goop.

Another one of those too quick movements and Jensen was on his belly, Jared breathing raggedly over his exposed neck. Jensen dipped his head, all submission, as Jared mouthed across his shoulder, drawing teeth along the back of his neck. A warm pain let Jensen know that Jared wasn’t just painting him with saliva but also with his own blood, chasing it with his tongue. Jensen squirmed on the bed. The pain seemed only to notch his arousal higher. He hoped Jared’s sensitive nose could pick up on how eager and ready he was. Jensen thrust his ass up, legs wide, begging. He was talking too. “Please, now. Yes. C’mon. Fuck.” Cut off, bits of sentences. Not coherence, but enough to let Jared know that he wanted this.

Sharp claws counting his vertebrae made Jensen arch his back and let out a soft cry and then, finally, Jared cock was pressing against his hole, forcing it wide. Jensen bore down, but it was still a stretch as Jared pushed in, nearly bleeding towards pain. Then his body adjusted and Jared slid home. He took a moment to gather Jensen’s hands, pinioning them above his head. Jensen fought for a moment – he’d sworn he’d never be in restraints again – before he realised there was no way he could fight against Jared’s preternatural strength. His shoulders sagged and the fight went out of him.

“Good boy.” The same rumbled words sent a wave of white hot heat through Jensen, which only rose to peak after peak as Jared fucked into him. Jensen took it, balanced on his knees, chest pressed into the bed. He lost all sense of time, of place. All that existed was the bed and the searing heat of the body above him. Jared let out a wild, ululating cry as his thrusts went from wild to out of control, unerringly finding Jensen’s prostate with each drive of his cock. The white fire swept through Jensen’s body once more and he came, untouched, Jared following him moments later with a bite to his shoulder that sent another type of fire through Jensen. He cried out then, in true pain, before Jared pulled back, licking and kissing to soothe the wound.

Jared lay beside him, afterwards, tapping one claw off another. The sound should have driven Jensen wild but there was something reassuring about it.

“So.” Jensen didn’t quite know how to ask his questions. What was he going to say? Are you going to eat me?

“I didn’t mean to mark you,” Jared said. There was no trace of apology in his voice. Mark? Jensen thought over that. People put marks on things to indicate ownership, possession. He sublimated the thought with a sleepy hmmm. His body was spiralling towards sleep now. “It might make this easier though.”

“What easier?” Jensen knew he was sinking into the darkness of sleep. At least he wasn’t lying in the wet mess he’d left on the sheets. He tugged the blanket up over his body, reckoning Jared wouldn’t begrudge him that.

“Make it easier when we go up against the Apex Council.” Jensen sat up at that. More rumours turned truth. “They’re trying to bring down the state and set themselves up in their place.”

Sleep vanquished, Jensen found another type of excitement thrumming through his veins. Conspiracies had always been his favourite type of thing to unpick. There would be danger, yeah. But there’d also be the thrill of the chase. He looked over to Jared to see something approximating a smile on his face, teeth almost bared. Creatures like him would like the hunt too.


End file.
